


Stay Awhile

by coolbyrne



Series: Cherry Wood and Whiskey [15]
Category: NCIS
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-09-23
Updated: 2019-09-23
Packaged: 2020-10-26 11:08:40
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,050
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20741222
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/coolbyrne/pseuds/coolbyrne
Summary: Gibbs' gift to Jack represents something more than just her birthday. A sequel of sorts to 'Soft Was The Sun'.  Married Slibbs.





	Stay Awhile

**Author's Note:**

> Can I squeeze one more fic in before the season premiere? Hell yeah, I can! :p  
The flower shop comment in a direct reference to jenni3penny's fic, "Garden Variety".  
I was worried the story was too cute, but hopefully it's not too sugary. :)

Like the bed frame he had made for her, he knew he could've just told her to limit her time downstairs, could've told her to not peek when she did. (Because after having her there, with a sander and sass, he couldn't _not_ have her in the basement). He knew she'd tease and prod but ultimately abide by his wishes because that's just how she was. They never kept big secrets from each other, which allowed them to have smaller ones. So he could've slowly built the chair, piece by piece and hid it in the bench she made. (He absolutely did _not_ grin in the stupidest lovesick way when he thought of her making it. Absolutely not.) Instead, he came up with a compromise- he _would_ build it, piece by piece, slowly over the next week so it kept her absence to a minimum. But he had other plans for the rest.

…..

He had lived in the neighbourhood for decades, but never spent as much time at the park as he did since Jack blustered her way into his life. Every Sunday morning, she’d ‘drag’ him to the park with a Thermos full of coffee, a crisp newspaper, and a spring in her step. (Because really, she could lure him to the edge of a cliff with her smile.) She _said_ getting up early on Sunday helped her get ready for Monday’s early alarm. (She slept in on Saturdays, no matter how many times he tickled, poked or stole the covers. Only his kiss would rouse her from her bedheaded slumber.) But he wondered if she had replaced the West coast ocean with a East coast substitute, because nothing seemed to bring her more joy and serenity than sitting on a bench or a blanket just watching the world go by. Or the kids play.

They were there now, not as many of them on a Saturday morning as there were on a Sunday afternoon, but still enough to implement his game plan. 

“Hey, Mr. Gibbs!” Sixteen year old Nathan shouted from the skate park. Sunday seemed to be football day like it was across the rest of the country, but Saturday was all about the skateboards. 

Gibbs jerked his chin up in greeting. "Got a second?"

"Yeah, sure." He stepped on one end of the board and grabbed it by the tip. 

"You, too," Gibbs said to the other two boys.

Eight-year old Danny, Jack's favourite and his Junior Probie, did the same flip as Nathan before approaching. "Everything okay, Mr. Gibbs?"

"Everything okay with Mrs. Gibbs?"

There were many women who had had that label, but beyond the very first, Gibbs was certain it had never sounded so good as it did when given to Jack. But he kept his pleasure to himself and instead shot a glare at Nathan's friend who grinned back in a way only teenage boys who think they're immortal could do. 

"Mrs. Gibbs is fine," he replied. "Not sure that's gonna apply to everyone else here in a minute."

Justin laughed. "C'mon, Mr. Gibbs. She's smokin'." When the glare remained, he looked to Nathan for support. "I'm right, right?"

Nathan held up his hand. "I'm so not getting into this."

"She's pretty," Danny agreed.

Justin ruffled the younger boy's hair. "Thanks, bud."

Teenage hormones aside, Gibbs wondered if she knew how much the kids adored her. She had become a mother figure, a sounding board, a friend and a secret crush all in the span of a year. She always said they'd run through a wall for him, but it was clear they'd walk through fire for her.

"I need to ask you a favour."

Nathan didn't hesitate. "What do you need?"

…..

"I know you're planning something," she murmured into his shoulder. 

The Sunday light was just beginning to break, and this slow, quiet awakening was just as much a part of the day as going to the park. He had many favourite moments with her, but at 6 in the morning, he was hard pressed to come up with one better than this, her body- soft in all the right places- molded to his side. He jokingly referred to her as his barnacle, but only if he was ready for the jab to the ribs the moniker always got in retaliation. 

"The only thing I'm planning is how to detach you from my arm so I can hit the head."

His gruffness fell on deaf ears. In fact, she snuggled in even closer. 

"I don't even know why you try to lie to your wife." 

He could feel the vibration of the words against his skin, and one word in particular against his heart. A year into the marriage and he wasn't sure he'd ever get used to hearing it.

"I don't," he said. "Nothin' to lie about."

"Mmm-hmm. That's why you left early yesterday and came back smelling like the hydrangea in the park. You roped your pack into doing something for you."

"'Hydrangea'?" he repeated. "What are you, some kinda investigator?"

He was ready for the pinch.

"I worked in a flower shop, remember?" When she got nothing else but a grunt, she sighed in dramatic fashion and rolled onto her back. The sheet hung low and she made no effort to cover herself up and he knew she did that on purpose. So did she, because she smirked. "Fine. But it better be good."

He rolled onto her so fast that she let out a delighted squeal. His mouth found the spot behind her ear that made her moan.

"Isn't it always?"

She slapped his shoulder at his cockiness. "You're incorrigible." As his mouth went lower, so did her moans. "I thought- mmmm- I thought you had to hit the head?"

He chuckled at the pun he was sure she wasn't aware she had made. Resting his chin just above her belly button, he confessed, "_That_ might have been a lie."

Her mouth opened in feigned shock. "Your apology better be _amazing_."

They were late to the park.

…..

Once he got the kids involved, the rest was easy. He had 12 days, giving him plenty of time to get it done. Most of the pieces took less than 30 minutes, which was exactly half as long as it took her to go for her run, shower and come downstairs. Getting them out of the house was a little harder, but he was more than aware how habit could cover any number of activities, and if the team thought anything of him leaving at odd times during the day, his return with a coffee in his hand satisfied any curiosity. He never left at the same time, specifically to avoid prying questions, and as long as he swung by his house before the kids did, the time didn’t matter. So at some point every day, 1-3 random wooden pieces of various sizes and shapes were left in a small unassuming plant pot in the corner of the porch, and when he and Jack came home after work, they were gone. He didn't know who took them, didn’t know how they decided whose turn it was; he only knew his squirrels came and went, as asked. 

Day 12 was when it all came together.

…..

"Happy birthday, Jack." Ellie's head poked into the office, and when she saw Jack's inviting smile, she stepped in. "Figured I'd say it, since your husband hasn’t said a word about it all morning."

Jack grinned at the indignation. She also grinned at the memory of him waking her up early that morning. Of _how_ he woke her up. Knowing that was outside the scope of what she wanted to reveal (and likely what Bishop wanted to hear), she said, "He made me breakfast in bed."

"Mmm." The approval was slight. "No flowers? Is he taking you to lunch? Did he buy you a gift?" Seeing Jack tilt her head and fight her smirk, Bishop shrugged. "I wasn't around for the other ones," she said, not needing to clarify what 'other ones' she meant. "I want to make sure he doesn't mess this one up."

"Aww." Jack came around her desk and hugged her. "I know he means a lot to you."

"Yeah, but you do, too. Both of you. Besides, I don’t want to have to tell Nick Mom and Dad are splitting up."

"'On the other hand, I'll get 2 Christmases'." Jack's impersonation of Torres was spot on and they both laughed. "Everything's fine, Ellie, really. I'm assuming we'll do something this weekend, and I'm fairly certain he's plotting something with the neighbourhood kids."

That information got a higher approval rating. “I half expect that Danny kid to take my job one day.”

Jack laughed at the memory of Gibbs bringing him to work as part of a school project and Danny already knowing half of the office procedures and etiquette. “Junior Probie’s itching to get promoted,” Jack agreed. 

“I like it though,” Bishop said. “I mean, I like the idea of him with kids, even if they’re not his. He’s got a lot to offer. Don’t tell him I said that.”

Jack hugged her again. “I’m afraid he already knows how you feel about him, Ellie.” Her tone was light and teasing and Bishop rolled her eyes. “And I appreciate you looking out for me on my birthday.”

“Yeah, well, if you need me to light a fire under him, just let me know. Pretty sure I can take on his army of 8-year olds.”

“Well, I did have my eye on a pair of boots in Dupont Circle that might require a little nudge.”

Bishop gave her a wink and a shoot. “On it.”

…..

She saw his slightly inquisitive look when she came down the stairs, and a silent arched eyebrow met her when she returned to her desk. “Just thought I’d go upstairs and wish your wife a happy birthday. Not sure if you knew it was her birthday, or-”

“You’re with me,” Gibbs said, standing and heading to the elevator without another word.

“Wow,” Torres mouthed.

McGee just shrugged at Bishop’s surprised expression and tilted his head in Gibbs’ direction. She jumped up and walk-ran to the elevator. Slipping in before the door closed, she had a quasi-apology at the ready.

“I’m just saying, sometimes you lose sight of the little things,” she began. “You can’t forget her birthday and you definitely can’t forget your anniversary.”

“Hundred and fifty three days.” His eyes didn’t waver from the elevator lights marking the floors.

The number caught her off-guard. “What?”

“My anniversary. It’s in 153 days.”

The fact he knew the number of days and didn’t hesitate in rattling off the number made her blink in surprise.

“Wow,” she whispered. “That is incredibly… sweet.” There was an incredulous lilt to the word that made Gibbs slowly turn to look at her, and she caught how it sounded. “I mean, I’m sure you can be sweet. You _are_ sweet. I’m just going to shut up now.”

He couldn’t hide his smirk. “Take the day, Bishop.”

It wasn’t the reaction she was expecting. “What?”

Gibbs reached over and flicked the switch, bringing the elevator to an abrupt halt. Under the glow of the dimmed light, he repeated, “Take the day. Text Nick and McGee in the next 30 minutes and tell them to make themselves scarce for the rest of the day, too.”

“I don’t-”

“I got somethin’ I gotta do, and I can’t do it if you three are still at the office.”

Her face lit up. “Ah. So we’re on a ‘case’.” She nodded at the subterfuge. “So if someone wonders where you are, it won’t raise suspicion when we’re all gone.”

There was no question who that ‘someone’ was.

“Somethin’ like that.” He grinned at her.

“You _are_ sweet,” she said again, this time with feeling and without embarrassment. “I said it. Deal with it.”

His eyes never left hers as he stretched to turn the elevator back on, but she just shrugged at his glare.

…..

Figuratively, everything fell into place; her birthday was on a Friday and it landed on a scheduled parent-teacher conference day, which meant the kids got home 3 hours early. In a literal sense, the wooden pieces were piling up on the porch as the kids came by and dropped them off. Only two pieces remained, and he could see their delivery running down the street. DeAndre and his younger sister Nia held up their pieces victoriously. 

“Mister Giiiiiibbs!” The 5-yr old squealed. She thumped up the porch steps and dropped the spindle into his hand. 

Gibbs looked at one end and squinted his eyes at the girl. 

“That was Fluffy!” she said. 

“Stupid dog thought it was a stick,” her brother groused.

“Fluffy’s not stupid!”

“Okay, okay,” Gibbs intermediated before things got out of hand. “It’s fine. In fact, it gives me an idea. Someone got a pencil?” 

…..

She knew he was plotting something with the kids, and she knew it had to do with her birthday, so she wasn’t entirely surprised to find them at the house when she pulled into the driveway. Covertly, she took out her phone and had it at the ready when she stepped out of the car. If he saw her (which she was sure he did), he made no outward motion, and she was able to capture them all in one shot. Eight kids and their leader, splayed, sprawled and sitting on the steps and railing, eating sandwiches and drinking root beer from glass bottles. What surprised her was the covered mystery on the porch. 

“Happy Birthday, Mrs. Gibbs!”

She smiled at the choral greeting. 

“Thank you, guys. And ladies.” She winked at Nia and Isabelle. “What in the world have you been up to?” She directed the question to the kids but was looking right at Gibbs.

“We made you something!” DeAndre said.

She was already putting the puzzle together in her head. With a playful grin, she said, “Did you?”

“We didn’t really make it,” Nathan corrected. “Mr. Gibbs made it.”

“But we put it together!”

Jack winked at Danny who had clarified the situation. “Well, are you going to show it to me or should I guess?”

“Guess!” Nia answered.

Gibbs shook his head. “No. Show.” He stood behind Jack and wrapped his arms around her, pressing his lips into her hair. “Danny.”

The 8-year old scrambled to his feet and grabbed one end of the sheet. Silently, Gibbs gave him the nod, and with a flourish, the sheet was pulled back. Jack didn’t say a word. Gibbs understood her silence because he felt her sigh against him, but the kids could only wait so long.

“It’s a rocking chair!” Nia blurted.

“She can see that, Mouse,” Nathan said, the only one besides his friend Justin who had an inkling of the emotions that were taking place. .

Nia wasn’t discouraged. “We wrote our names on it ‘cause Fluffy chewed one of the pieces. Mr. Gibbs’ name is ‘Jethro’.” She burst into a giggle fit.

Jack finally found her voice. "Is it?" she asked, shocked and amazed. "I thought it was just 'Gibbs'."

"Me, too!" the young girl replied, to be joined by a small chorus of 'Me, too!'s

Gibbs kissed her cheek then slowly dropped his arms to let her get a closer look. "We just put it together," he said. "Ya can't sit in it yet."

"Gotta let the glued joints harden," DeAndre informed her like a wizened carpenter. 

“I see.” She walked around it, letting her fingers caress the names burned into random pieces. She had once told him she could sit in a rocking chair all day and watch the neighbourhood kids grow up, and here it was. It shouldn’t have surprised her that he made it happen- he had made so much happen over the last year- but she couldn’t stop the tears from pricking her eyes.

Gibbs saw the reaction and caught Nathan’s eye. With a head tilted towards the house, the teenager nodded in return.

“I don’t know about the rest of you, but I’m going in the house for cake.” His announcement was met with cheers. 

They all barrelled into the house, all but one. Danny shyly walked up to Jack and gingerly wrapped his arms around her waist. 

“Happy Birthday, Mrs. Gibbs.” Before she could react, he ducked his head and ran into the house.

“I got my eye on that kid,” Gibbs said, his voice not quite matching the terseness of the words.

She looked up and smiled, wiping away an errant tear. Touching the chair again, she said, “It’s so permanent.”

He approached her slowly, drawing himself closer. “Yeah?”

She could hear the confusion in the question. “I just mean… the kitchen. The bed. Now this. It makes it real. And sometimes I have a hard time believing it is.”

_That _was something he could understand, because he woke up every day wondering if it was all a dream. He put his arms around her waist in a much different way than Danny had done, and pulled her hips into his. “Well, believe it, because I’m runnin’ out of things to build you.”

She breathed the word “Asshole” against his lips before undermining her accusation by kissing him. Her hands wandered over his shoulders and down his back, ending with a promise when they found a home on the button of his jeans. 

His hips twitched forward even as he warned her, “There are children in the house.”

The formal tone of his warning made her laugh into his mouth. “I take it there’s a hammock in the backyard?” It was the playful trade-off he agreed to the very first time they’d talked about the rocking chair.

“Damn right there is.”

She thought of the chair and of the kids in the house, of the Mexican sand under her toes and his declarations of devotion. She thought of the past year that seemed too good to be true, and yet, the proof was in her arms. She was the one who usually had so much to say, but the only words she could seem to find were, “This is the best birthday ever.”

…..

-end


End file.
